


A Magic That Won't Go Cold

by Kalcifer



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalcifer/pseuds/Kalcifer
Summary: Jacqui doesn't normally like being sent on bodyguard jobs, but then, she's not normally working for Joypark darling Aria Joie.





	A Magic That Won't Go Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished listening to Counter/weight, and it's a little weird how they had all that build-up to fighting Rigor and then the only thing that happened was that Jacqui and Aria had a cute scene together, but at least everyone survived and got a happy ending together. It's great and this AU is in no way an excuse to escape from canon thoughts.

Bodyguard gigs are Jacqui’s least favorite jobs. They’re 95% standing around waiting for something to happen, and then even if things do get interesting, she can’t blow anything up without having to worry about collateral damage. Plus, the sorts of people who’ll hire a bioengineered hitwoman as a bodyguard are usually uptight corporate scumbags who manage to condescend to her without ever acknowledging her as a person.

Even so, there’s a little thrill of excitement every time she thinks about her latest job. She’s working for Aria Joie. Jillian’s going to be so jealous when she gets back from her own assignment.

She lands on Joypark and is lead to Aria’s apartment by some smarmy lawyer kid. He’s exactly the sort of person who would brag about his parents’ connections. He rambles about Joypark’s illustrious history or something the whole time they’re walking. Jacqui tunes him out, trying to commit the landscape to memory. She can’t imagine getting into a fight between theme park rides, but she’s also not about to risk it.

Aria’s apartment turns out to be set back a ways from the main street, presumably to give her some modicum of privacy. The hallway is still lined with flowers and cards and other gifts from fans and admirers. Jacqui’s impressed that anyone bothers adding their offerings to the hoard. There’s no way Aria can get through all of this herself.

Jacqui’s guide picks his way through the sea carefully, Jacqui following. He knocks on the door.

Aria takes a moment to answer. When she does, Jacqui has to suppress the urge to whistle appreciatively. Aria’s dressed casually, a loose t-shirt and shorts, and she moves like she’s been sitting down for too long. Even so, her makeup is stage perfect. The discrepancy should look silly. It really doesn’t.

The possible lawyer grins. “I’ve got good news, Aria! We found the perfect bodyguard for you.” He gestures to Jacqui, who waves casually.

Aria frowns. “I told them this was a bad idea. I can take care of myself.”

It’s not the worst reaction Jacqui has ever gotten, but it’s also not how she’d imagined meeting Aria Joie. She hadn’t asked to be here either.

The guy who’d been leaning her around shakes his head. “We can’t risk it, Aria. You’re too important to risk letting you get hurt, no matter how confident you are.”

Jacqui rolls her eyes. She hopes they’re not expecting her to suck up to Aria like that. She’s not about to coddle some spoiled idol’s ego, no matter how hot she is or how much Jacqui might enjoy her music.

Aria huffs something that could be either a laugh or a sigh. “Fine.” She runs a hand through her hair, and then her entire demeanor shifts. She loses all traces of exhaustion and exasperation. She’s in full idol mode now, the Aria Joie who dances onstage and gives perfect interviews and used to be on a poster on Jacqui’s wall before she got too busy to have a room that was hers for any length of time. Jacqui wishes she wasn’t as dazzled by the transformation as she is.

“Hi,” Aria says, smiling brightly. “I’m Aria. Sorry about all that. I really appreciate you being willing to work with me.” She sticks out a hand for Jacqui to shake, only to flinch when metal touches skin. She recovers quickly, but it’s enough to break the spell.

“Jacqui.” She shrugs. “And with the money you’re paying me, I’d work with anyone. I’d work for Apostolos if they offered.”

The man shoots her a look, and Aria pauses, assessing her. Whatever she sees makes her nod. “Even so,” she says. “Thank you.”

Jacqui decides that Aria’s a prissy thing with no sense of life outside her plastic model world, but she’s still better than any of the Earthhome reps who hired her. This is about as good as a bodyguard job can get.

“So,” she says. “Where do you want me?”

“We think it would be most effective for you to stand outside to watch for threats…” the man begins.

“I don’t know,” Aria cuts in. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to have her right by my side, just in case? There are already the security teams keeping an eye out out here, so if anything makes it past them, we’ll want the element of surprise, right? Especially if they manage to get in through something other than the front door.”

Jacqui smirks. “For someone who didn’t want a bodyguard, you’re awfully quick to invite me into your home.”

“There’s no point in taking chances,” Aria says. “That’s a waste of both our time.”

“Even so…” the toadie looks between Jacqui and Aria nervously. Jacqui grins at him, showing her teeth. He hastily looks away.

“If that’s all,” Aria says, sugar sweet.

The man deflates. “If you insist.” He glances at Jacqui one last time, clearly mistrustful. It’s the most sense he’s shown so far.

She’s not planning to hurt Aria anytime soon, though. She waits for him to leave, then sweeps into the apartment, settling into a nearby armchair with conspicuous casualness. “Thanks,” she says, “this is a lot more comfortable.”

“It made more sense.” Aria glances at the door. She’s probably more afraid than she wants to admit. It’s precious.

When Jacqui doesn’t say anything else, Aria sits down on the couch, pulling something up from her bracelet.

Jacqui figures this is the most interesting the job is going to get, but it’s still better than she’d expect. Aria doesn’t seem to mind her pressing the limits of deference, either, a fact Jacqui fully intends to exploit. 

Earthhome hasn’t set a definite length on her contract, keeping her on until the threat is resolved. She’s starting to hope they take their time.

* * *

For the first hour or so, Aria’s just browsing the Mesh on her display, probably managing her social media or whatever it is idols do to convince their fans that they really are that bright and peppy and non-threatening.

Eventually, she tabs away from the site she’s been on and pulls up a blank text file. She types slowly, deleting everything she’s written every few minutes. She’s humming to herself, so softly Jacqui thinks she might not be aware she’s doing it.

Jacqui has to admit, she’s curious. She’s certainly not going to pass up the chance to preview an Aria Joie song in progress. She creeps up behind her, though she might not have bothered, since Aria seems fully absorbed in her work. Jacqui watches the words flicker across the screen. “So, Aria Joie writes her own music, huh.”

Aria stiffens. Jacqui takes the opportunity to lean past her and properly read what she’s writing.

It’s clearly an early draft. For one thing, the meter is rough and inconsistent, and a lot of the rhymes are forced. It’s also a call to action on the behalf of the people of Counterweight, accompanied by an unsubtle condemnation of the factions contributing to the planet’s current state.

Jacqui whistles. “Damn,” she says, “thinking of changing your image? Because I don’t think the preteen girls visiting Joypark to see their favorite pop star are going to care about how shitty life is on a single planet.”

“Only because they don’t know. If someone explains it to them, they’ll have to see how important it is.” Aria crosses her arms. “And it’s not just preteen girls. My music lets me reach people all across the Golden Branch.”

Jacqui snorts. “Right, of course, you’re so famous and no one can forget it. But do you really think you’re the right person to be making this point? You sing about dancing and pretty lights. Why should anyone listen to you about things that matter?”

“So I should just sit around and do nothing?” Aria asks. “No way. I have to try.”

“And why now? You’ve been doing just fine coasting on Earthhome’s success. What made you suddenly grow a conscience?” Jacqui knows she’s way over the line, but there’s something satisfying about watching Aria’s perfect image shatter as Jacqui needles her.

“You think this is new?” Aria laughs bitterly. “Let me show you something.” She pulls up another set of lyrics. This one is more polished, its themes clearer and wording snappier.

It’s a condemnation of the working conditions on Slate. It’s so vicious, it isn’t until Jacqui reaches the chorus that she recognizes it as “The Wedding Bells are Ringing”. She shakes her head. “That song was playing from every speaker in the galaxy for a month after it came out,” including her own, repeatedly and at high volume, “and I’m pretty sure that didn’t make it into the final version.”

“Well, yeah,” Aria says. “You think Earthhome would release anything criticizing another member of OriCon like this? It would be terrible publicity.”

“Then what’s the point?” Jacqui leans back and crosses her arms. “Why do you bother to write these if you know no one will hear them? It seems like a waste of time.”

“I can’t accept that it’s hopeless.” Aria stands up, the couch squeaking unpleasantly as it’s shoved backwards. “I’ll get a chance to spread my message sooner or later, until then, all I can do is try to prepare.”

“Really?” Jacqui’s less amused now. Aria’s optimism is cute, she supposes, but Jacqui’s not a fan of getting lectured on suffering by a woman who has a personal staff catering to her every whim. “Because I think there’s plenty you can do. Perform your version of the lyrics at a concert, that’ll shock them into listening.”

“Yeah, for the people at the concert, maybe. But then Earthhome cuts the broadcast and manufactures an excuse to fire me, and the only thing that changes is that I’m on my own in the middle of space.” Aria’s voice is getting louder, her words coming faster and faster. “I’m not about to throw away everything I’ve worked for in a single temper tantrum.”

“Oh, I get it.” Jacqui smiles. It’s not a friendly expression. “You want to feel good about what a good person you are, but you don’t want to lose your cushy sponsorship. There’s no shame in that. We all want money, right?”

“You don’t understand anything about me,” Aria bites out. She presses into Jacqui’s space, face hard. “Just watch. I will find a way to improve things, and I’ll do it without pissing people off for no reason.”

“I can’t wait,” Jacqui drawls. She steps back, footsteps heavy enough to make it clear that she’s not retreating. Contract or no, she won’t hesitate to punch Aria in the face if she has to. For now, she settles on stretching her arms, the gesture both a signal that the conversation is over and a display of power.

Aria stares at her, expression unreadable. Jacqui considers picking another fight with her. It’s probably not worth it, though. She settles for ignoring Aria altogether.

She stretches for a few minutes, then sits back down, broadcasting indifference once again. Aria’s returned to her writing, her back to Jacqui. There’s no reason for Jacqui to be disappointed by that.

* * *

Jacqui thinks that if more bodyguard jobs were like this one, she wouldn’t be nearly as annoyed by them. It isn’t even a comment on Aria’s personality. Sure, she’s better than most of Jacqui’s employers have been. Things were chilly on that first day, but since then Aria has been weirdly friendly. She keeps trying to make small talk. Jacqui was suspicious at first, but Aria wasn’t deterred by one-word answers and grunts, perfectly happy to keep the conversation going on her own. It’s less annoying than it has any right to be.

But all of that aside, being a bodyguard means she has a contract requiring her to stare at Aria Joie as she practices her choreography. Aria moves like no one Jacqui has ever met. She’s bouncy, sure, but surprisingly graceful. It’s clear that she has complete control over her body, even as she throws in apparently-spontaneous flourishes and twirls.

And, of course, she’s hot as hell. Jacqui really can’t complain.

Aria finishes the routine with a final spin. She beams at the imaginary audience, maintaining the expression even as she sinks to the floor in exhaustion.

She doesn’t seem inclined to move anytime soon, so Jacqui takes her water bottle over to her. Aria’s smile softens into something more personal. “Thanks!” She drains the whole thing in one sip.

Jacqui stands by impassively, as per her job description.

Once she’s done, Aria looks up at Jacqui, suddenly intent. “Hey,” she says. “I’ve been wondering. What made you decide to become a bodyguard? I mean, you’re clearly good at it, but how did you get into it in the first place?”

Jacqui feels herself grimacing. She has no idea what brought this up, but she’d rather not ruin what had been a perfectly pleasant afternoon. She forces a smirk instead. “I don’t know, it’s not a very pretty story. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Yeah.” Aria’s voice is still even, but her eyes are wide, and she’s leaning in to meet Jacqui. Jacqui almost laughs at how much she looks like a child waiting for a ghost story.

What stops her is the nature of that story. She shakes her head. “For one thing, calling me a bodyguard is thinking too small. I’d say ‘freelancer’ is more accurate.”

“Oh.” Jacqui watches Aria work through those implications. “Oh. Well, that’s cool.”

“Exactly.” Jacqui’s expression becomes a little more real.

“Well, whatever you call yourself, I’m glad you’re here.” Aria smiles again, and even though it’s the same smile Jacqui’s seen in dozens of music videos and advertisements, having it directed at her still makes Jacqui’s heart flutter. Aria isn’t Earthhome’s darling for nothing.

But Jacqui isn’t sixteen anymore, and she’s past celebrity crushes, no matter how cute the celebrity or catchy her music. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen me at work.”

Aria laughs. “If you do have to work, I’m sure I’ll be even happier to have you around, since you’ll be making sure I’m not dead.”

“I thought you could take care of yourself,” Jacqui says, tone just shy of a challenge.

Aria shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t think I’d mind you taking care of me, though.”

Jacqui snorts. “I’m flattered, but you don’t need to flirt with me to convince me to keep an eye on you. It’d be bad for my reputation if I let a client die, especially one as beloved as you.”

“If you insist,” Aria says. Her expression has faltered, and Jacqui can’t quite decipher its remnants before they’re wiped away by another smile. “Anyway, I’m starving. We should go back to my apartment and order something in.”

“Sure.” The conversation is back in safer waters, so Jacqui’s content to follow Aria’s sudden impulses, at least so long as they end in takeout at the company’s expense. She grabs Aria’s hand and pulls her up. “Let’s go.”

“Y-Yeah,” Aria says, voice suddenly strained.

Jacqui frowns. She would have thought Aria would have gotten used to Jacqui’s arms by now. It wasn’t like they were unpleasantly cold or anything.

Aria’s moving to leave, though, so there’s no time to dwell. Jacqui falls into position right behind her.

* * *

Jacqui’s changed her mind. It’s been two weeks, and she is the most bored. She can only watch the nightly Joypark closing concert a certain number of times without wanting to blow up the stage, and that number is zero. Aria’s performance isn’t enough to salvage the mess of cheesy slogans and flashing lights. 

At least she doesn’t have to stand in the crowd of screaming toddlers and drunk teenagers. She’s got a front row seat to this train wreck.

She’s moving as soon as Aria finishes her set, not waiting for the applause to die down. She meets Aria as soon as they’re backstage. Aria is in peak performance mode, buzzing with leftover energy from the crowd, and Jacqui only feels more out of place. She barely makes it to the dressing room before demanding, “Why am I here?”

Aria, pulling out a chair, freezes. “What?”

“Why am I here?” Jacqui asks again. “I’ve spent the last few weeks glued to your side, and I haven’t seen an upset toddler approach you, much less anyone dangerous enough to need a hitwoman following you around. You don’t exactly seem afraid for your life, either. So what’s the point?”

Aria blinks. “Did they not tell you? I’ve been getting death threats. They stopped for a few days right after you showed up, but then they got even more detailed.”

“And?” Jacqui fiddles with an old eyeliner pencil in what definitely isn’t an attempt to avoid looking at Aria. “No offense, but you’re one of the most visible people in the sector. I’m impressed it’s taken this long for you to get a crazy fan.”

“You’re right,” Aria says. “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten death threats. It is the first time they’ve included details about my daily schedule.”

The pencil snaps. Jacqui barely notices. “And you didn’t think to tell me that?” She runs a hand through her hair. “I could have been out there talking to the park workers, or scoping the place out. Literally anything other than sit in a room and wait for things to go wrong!”

“I thought you knew!” Aria shakes her head. “Besides, I’m pretty sure there are other people out there looking into all that. I’d rather have you here in case something gets past them.”

“You basically just admitted you don’t trust them,” Jacqui points out. She sits down despite herself. “Look, my job is to keep you safe. If that means going out and tracking down some loser who doesn’t understand what a celebrity is, that’s what I’ll do.”

“I know.” Aria smiles, but for once It isn’t an idol’s smile. It’s tired and a little sad, not quite fitting the stage makeup she still has on. It still manages to be breathtaking. “Just, try not to find him too quickly, okay? I don’t want you to leave so soon.”

Jacqui’s brain short-circuits. She nods on autopilot, then immediately wishes she hadn’t. Without the excuse of work, she has no reason to leave the room before Aria can see her blush. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says. It comes out more hesitant than she’d like. She’s supposed to be the cool mercenary type, dammit.

“Thank you.” Apparently satisfied, Aria sits down and starts wiping her makeup off.

Jacqui should probably demand to see the messages. She should be planning her course of attack, checking on her weapons, doing something. It’s been awhile since she’s gotten to fight anyone, and she can’t deny that beating the crap out of someone for Aria’s sake sounds satisfying on a number of levels.

She’ll get around to it. As soon as she figures out how to process Aria admitting to wanting to have her around for more than just her job.

* * *

Jacqui slams through the door to Aria’s apartment. “Get down!” She detonates the charge she’d set at the corner. There’s a satisfying boom, but no screams, so she moves back into the room cautiously.

A glance at Aria shows that her face is pale but determined. She’d produced a whip from somewhere. Its length crackles with electricity. It’s still not going to do much against a gun, but she’s not totally defenseless. Jacqui is impressed despite herself.

A bullet flies through the doorway, above even Jacqui’s head. She’s almost offended. She let herself get distracted and he couldn’t even take advantage of it? What a joke. There was no need to call her in for a clown like this.

There are a few more gunshots, equally wide, and then the would-be assassin appears in the doorway. He brandishes his gun like the villain in a shitty Earthhome drama. “Aria! It’s time for you to pay for –“

He’s cut off by a whip to the arm. Aria’s form is decent, but she doesn’t quite get it to coil around his arm. He bats the whip aside before the electricity can stun him.

Jacqui curses. Sure, get the attention of the crazy guy trying to kill you, that’s a good idea. She throws herself at him before he can get the gun pointed at Aria.

He flails as he falls, so that by the time he manages to pull the trigger, he only grazes Jacqui’s side. It’s not enough to stop her from knocking him out with a sharp blow to the head. Really, she’d love to snap his neck, but there’s a bonus if she can get through this without killing anyone. Murder doesn’t really fit the family-friendly branding.

“Oh my God,” Aria says. There’s a clatter that presumably comes from her whip hitting the floor, because when she runs up to Jacqui, her hands are empty.

“I’ve had worse,” Jacqui says, partially because it’s true but mostly because it sounds cool.

“You got shot! For me!” Aria’s eyes dart around the room. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I’d really like it if you could get me a doctor.” Jacqui tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace.

Aria nods, a little too vigorously. “Right. Of course.” She grabs her bracelet and swipes at the screen. “Someone’s on their way.” She bites her lip. “And, um. Thank you.”

Jacqui considers pointing out that this is literally her job. It doesn’t feel like the right call. “Any time.”

Aria makes a sound that could theoretically be called a laugh. “Please don’t.”

“If you insist,” Jacqui says. Without an immediate goal, the pain is harder to ignore. Arguing with Aria seems less worth it, no matter how much she usually enjoys winding her up.

“I do,” Aria says. Her voice is too serious for their admittedly lackluster banter, and Jacqui doesn’t know how to respond.

The medic comes in before she figures anything out, almost tripping over the unconscious body in the doorway. Jacqui snorts at the sight. Then she’s given a painkiller, and she doesn’t do much of anything after that.

* * *

If Jacqui had thought about it, she would have assumed that Joypark would have its own hospitals. You don’t want to have to race the dehydrated tourists off-planet to get them to a doctor. What she hadn’t expected were the secret VIP rooms, much less that she would be put in one. It’s presumably so she doesn’t frighten aforementioned tourists, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s the nicest hospital room she’s been in. She has a headset that lets her control everything from the angle of the bed to which saccharine movie is playing on her TV, all without moving a muscle.

She’s so caught up in playing with the tech, she’s taken by surprise when Aria walks in. She jolts, then relaxes self-consciously. She’ll blame that on the painkillers.

“Hey,” Aria says. She’s carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers in all different colors, reds and purples and yellows too bright to be natural.

“Hey,” Jacqui says. She raises an eyebrow. “Are you getting so many gifts you have to start unloading them on people?”

Aria laughs a little and shakes her head. “No, I just wanted to do something to thank you. You saved my life.”

“It was nothing,” Jacqui says. “Once I knew to look for him, that guy was pathetically easy to find. I’m pretty sure he would have blown himself up if we’d waited another month. I just made sure he didn’t take you with him.”

“Yeah, ‘just’,” Aria says, tone laced with irony. “It was impressive and you know it.”

“I am pretty cool,” Jacqui agrees.

“Good!” Aria’s smile is so bright that Jacqui is instantly suspicious. “It just so happens I’m going on a trip, and I could use cool people to go with me.”

“Oh?”

“I managed to convince corporate that it would be good for my image if I did a humanitarian tour. You know, do a few charity concerts, make some donations, that sort of thing.” Aria looks away, uncharacteristically shy. “It’s not a rally or a revolution or anything, but it’s a start, I think.”

“Oh,” Jacqui says, all trace of bravado gone. She’d noticed Aria flirting with her, of course, but she’d assumed it was just having fun with the hot bodyguard. She hadn’t realized Aria had been listening to her. “Wow.”

“I thought about it, and you were right. I’m not accomplishing anything sitting around here singing the same meaningless songs. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get my message out there, but I have to try.” Aria’s nerves seem to melt away as she speaks, leaving a burning conviction in their place. She’s – not dazzling, Jacqui thinks. That brings to mind the idol Aria, all style and no substance. This Aria is different. Even so, Jacqui can’t look away.

“So,” she says, trying to sound less starstruck than she is. “You think you’ll need a bodyguard?” The question comes out more hopeful than she’d intended. This conversation is destroying her cool and detached image. It’s worth it.

“I don’t know,” Aria says. “A bodyguard would probably be helpful. But I don’t know how many people I can bring, and I think a girlfriend would take first priority.”

Jacqui stares at her. Aria seems completely sincere, and Jacqui can’t help it. She bursts out laughing. “You think you’re so smooth, don’t you?”

“I’m plenty smooth!” Aria says. “That was totally romantic and you know it.”

“It was romantic, sure, but that’s not how people talk.” Jacqui shakes her head in mock disappointment. “I can’t believe my girlfriend is such a nerd.”

“You mean…?” Aria takes a step towards Jacqui before apparently remembering where they are and why launching herself at Jacqui would be a bad idea. She settles for kissing Jacqui’s forehead. When she steps back, she has the goofiest grin on her face, something they’d never put in a magazine.

“I’m not dying, you know,” she says. “You can do better than that. I promise I’m not that fragile.”

“I’ll hold you to that, but not right now.” Aria holds out the bouquet again. “You need to recover as quickly as you can, so we can start this tour.”

It occurs to Jacqui how reckless she’s being. She’s quitting her job and going into space with a woman she’s known for a month, in the hopes that somehow they’ll be able to fight against the entirety of OriCon.

She can’t say she really cares. It sounds a lot more fun than what she’s been doing. And it’s silly, but looking at Aria, revolution feels within their grasp.


End file.
